


The (Mis)Adventures of Lucius Malfoy and His Grandson

by crazy_lune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazy_lune/pseuds/crazy_lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Lucius Malfoy held his grandson, something changed in the broken man. He loved the tiny pink creature he held in his arms more than anything in the world. He rocked Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy gently in his arms, cooing when the baby boy gurgled. Reluctantly he handed the child back to Astoria, his son Draco glaring while standing next to her. Clearly, he had not forgotten who Lucius had been. That was moment Lucius Malfoy decided he would be everything he was not to Draco– a loving figure in this boy’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Afternoon Tea

**Author's Note:**

> This series of one-shots were inspired by fangirl1383 over on tumblr. :) link to the original post : http://fangirl383.tumblr.com/post/147098166964/fangirl383-ive-been-reading-a-lot-of-shit-about

The first trial of his newfound resolve was when Scorpius had set up a tea party in the garden. Lucius had stumbled upon his five year old grandson in an over-sized shirt and a crown on his head. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy legacy, was having a dress-up tea party? Why wasn’t he playing quidditch, or reading? Sure, he would start Hogwarts only in a few years, but Draco had been well prepared for– Draco. His son. The one he had failed spectacularly. The same mistakes would not be made. Lucius took in a deep breath and observed the scene in front of him.

Scorpius was seated on the ground, his silver-white hair, so much like Lucius’ own, was long. The crown on the fiver-year-old’s head really made for a picture of a princess. In front of the child lay a set of porcelain tea cups with gold inlay. Neatly in a circle, sat all of Scorpius’ two stuffed toys. “Mr. Fuzzykins” – the stuffed dragon – had his tail wrapped around a cup and saucer. Lucius himself had charmed the dragon to let out puffs of smoke and move its head form side to side; occasionally swish its tail and stretch its wings. This was a gift to the child that had become the centre of Lucius’ world ever so quickly, for his second birthday.  
The second creature was a teddy bear named “Teddy” after the child’s cousin, who had gifted the tattered bear to Scorpius when he first saw him in the crib. That wretched Potter boy had brought the tiny, blue-haired brat to St. Mungo’s a few days after Scorpius had been born. Narcissa had invited her sister Andromeda to meet her grandchild– as a part of her “healing process” after The War. Potter, being the child’s godfather and legal guardian, had brought Teddy to meet his baby cousin. He had brought the bear with him, as his own comfort toy, but when Scorpius had gurgled happily at it, Teddy had gladly parted with the _ugly_ brown thing. Potter and Andromeda had beamed, eyes glistening, at this show of selflessness from their darling angel. Well, Lucius had thought, Scorpius would be far more selfless than Teddy Lupin, son of a werewolf.

“Granpa! Granpa!” Scorpius had yelled, excited to see the old man. He looked up beaming, two teeth missing, and two sets of identical grey eyes met. Their hair, too, was the same silver-blonde and both wore it long. For Lucius it was like looking in a strange sort of mirror. For Scorpius, he was looking at his hero. The afternoon sun glinted off of his Granpa’s white hair, so much like his own, giving him an ethereal glow. That, coupled with the light green robes he wore, made him look like one of Aunty Andy’s angels. So, the little boy giggled over Lucius’ correction of “Grandfather, not Granpa,” and said promptly “You look like one of Aunty Andy’s angels!”

He giggled some more at Lucius’ shocked expression, and odd smile.

Lucius stayed that way for far too long. He was stunned that anyone would ever dare to call him that. This little boy, this angel, _his_ angel, saw him that way? He who had tortured and killed so many… they were unworthy though, but he needn’t have enjoyed it that much. He, Lucius Malfoy, who was spat on when he walked through Diagon Alley, and had been called things far worse than “monstrous”. He, was an angel to this young boy? “Would you like to have some tea, Grandfather?” Scorpius asked, ever the gentleman, upon sensing something was wrong with Lucius. He even used the proper term to address his Granpa. This shook Lucius out of his reverie. The unintended compliment had frazzled him enough that he forgot that his grandson, heir to the Malfoy fortune, was having a tea party in a crown, sitting on the ground, no less! Instead, Lucius Malfoy gathered his robes and sat opposite young Scorpius, between Mr. Fuzzykins and Teddy.

And they all had a wonderful afternoon tea.


	2. The One With The Surprise.

“Narcissa! Hide it for Merlin’s sake! Quickly!” Lucius whispered urgently as he rushed past the drawing room. It was decorated in green and silver– Scorpius’ favourite colours- that also happened to be the Slytherin House colours. _Yes, Draco was ever so subtle,_ thought Lucius irritably as he briskly walked to the West wing of the Malfoy Manor in search of his grandson.

It was his eleventh birthday, and by far the most important; for a witch or wizard anyway. Narcissa hadn’t even tried to hide the present they had got Scorpius this year. _One simple Disillusionment Charm, Narcy, that’s all you’ve got to do_ , thought Lucius, shaking his head at his wife’s incompetence. A small voice begged to remind him that if it weren’t for her quick wit, the world would have been a far different place than it was today. Lucius might have preferred the principles that the Dark Lord followed, but he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed the peace of sitting at home with his grandson all day, everyday, not having to worry about the politics of the world out side The Manor. Lucius couldn’t believe that eleven years were almost over!

He knocked gently on the ornately carved, Mahogany, double-doors that led to Scorpius’ room. They swung open smoothly without so much as a push. Confused, Lucius stepped into the large room. The bed sported rumpled green sheets and silver bedposts. Art supplies lay scattered along the floor and a large bookshelf covered an entire wall. The grand bay windows along the Western wall opened out into a balcony, and Scorpius was often found here when the sun would set. The entire room would alight with a golden fire, then. Though the walls were whitewashed, Scorpius had been steadily making his way across the remaining two walls of the room with his paintings and doodles. Draco had long since given up trying to clean them away– it only upset the poor boy. Astoria, on the other hand, an artist herself, took inspiration from her son. She had been making her way across the long halls of The Manor. Once dull and ominous, they now sported happy frescos and beautiful murals. It was always a pleasure to catch sight of mother and son painting on the walls that house such bad memories for Draco’s side of the family. It was almost as though Astoria and her son, for in this right Scorpius was truly hers alone, were bring life and happiness back into the family that was housed by the walls they so patiently and lovingly adorned with images.

Quickly scanning the room, sans Scorpius, Lucius swept out and marched furiously further down the hall, his emerald robes billowing. Where had his little angel gone? Lucius thought, a frown settling upon his elegant features. As old as he maybe – not a day over fifty if anybody asked – he had aged well. Nobody could deny that the Malfoy men were a good-looking lot.

“Scorpius!” He yelled, somewhat fervently.

The picture of Lucius Malfoy hurrying frantically down a hallway of half-finished frescos yelling was one that might seem somewhat uncharacteristic– to those who had only known him during The War. To his family, this was normal behaviour. Like any normal, paranoid grandfather, Lucius couldn’t bear to let Scorpius out of his sight. He spotted a little blonde head around the corner. Gathering his robes, Lucius rushed over. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his little boy drawing what could only be his version of the Dark Mark on the wall.

“Scorpius! What is the meaning of this?” Lucius snapped, yanking the boy’s paint-covered arm away from the wall. Wide grey eyes stared up at him, brimming with tears from the harsh tone.

“I was only drawing the tattoo you, Granma and Father have…” he muttered, ashamed and confused. His head dropped and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Letting out a long sigh, Lucius knelt next to his grandson.

“Scorpius, my boy, these tattoos are a sign of something…” Lucius paused, images flashing before his mind’s eye. The cruel acts of the Dark Lord, the horrendous things he did to children not much older than Scorpius was now, twisted ideologies that led to heinous acts of war. Little boys who were budding artists, loved to read, and who were ever so curious about the world – how many had he killed because they were Muggles? How many had he orphaned? How many lives had he ruined? Was it finally time to show his beloved grandson who he really is. Or was? No. Lucius decided firmly. He would keep it a secret form Scorpius as long as he could.

“Something different, shall we say, than what the larger wizarding world believes in” He quickly finished, ruffling the young one’s hair.

“Come now, there’s a surprise for you in the living room. Eleven is a big year, my boy!” Lucius plastered a smile on his face and rose to his feet, pulling Scorpius up with him. The boy’s eyes lit up at the mention of a surprise.

“I know mum planned a party.” He grinned mischievously. His grey eyes sparkled with intelligence, _just the way his father’s had when he was young and untainted by the world- or rather, by my bad choices_. The thought surprised him, since when had he thought of following the Dark Lord as a bad decision? Ignoring that, Lucius grinned at his cheeky progeny and motioned towards the powder room. Standing by the door, he wished he still had his wand– a simple cleaning spell would have done the trick. _Well, that was certainly an unfortunate, and rather unfair, outcome of The War_ , he thought bitterly. How he missed the hum of his magic and the thrill of experiencing it manifest! But that was hardly reason to doubt that the Dark Lord’s ideas were correct. What kind of life had his family led? How young Draco was when he was recruited. What might he have been if Lucius hadn’t pushed him so? Shaking his head to rid it of such thoughts, Lucius smiled down at Scorpius as they walked towards the living room together. The little boy smiled back, and gentle took his Granpa’s hand. In that moment, Lucius saw a glimpse of the life he could have lead with Narcissa and Draco– a whole, happy family. Hiss heart ached for this image that would never be.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of voices assaulted them as soon as they entered the living room. Quickly the boy was swept into multiple hugs– Nott, Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle. For the first time, something didn’t sit right with Lucius about the company they kept. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the issue as he mingled politely. All pureblood, so they were of high standards. All had some family who had served the Dark Lord. They supported the idea that wizards are superior to all other creatures, and deserve such a position in society. They were his kind of people. _But what kind of person was he? Is that who he wanted Scorpius to become?_ He was shaken out of his reverie when Scorpius ran up to him, squealing. He had just been in the garden, so clearly he had seen the gift he and Narcy had bought for him. Draco’s frightened yet furious glare only confirmed this.

“Granpa,” Scorpius asked, wide eyed with excitement, tugging at Lucius’ sleeve, “is that a Hippogriff?”


	3. All Aboard!

They were standing at Platform 9 and ¾’s, and despite the steam billowing from the red Hogwarts Express, the September chill was crisp in the air. 

“Oh by Merlin. Narcissa!” Lucius exclaimed suddenly, clutching his chest.  
Narcissa Malfoy quickly turned toward her husband, expecting someone to have cursed him. His face was white as a sheet, and mouth slightly open in disgust. She breathed a sigh of relief– they were taking a huge risk coming to King’s Cross that September-the-first, and she was constantly on edge. 

“What happened, dear?” She asked testily, her initial relief quickly dissipating. 

“The Weasleys have spawned further. Scorpius is going to grow up in such a corrupt world!” Lucius said, utterly mortified as he pointed with one shaky finger to a group of red-heads.

“Lucius!” Narcissa cried, aghast. “Lucius Orion Malfoy, you will behave yourself. YOu will not ruin this day for Scorpius with your out-dated prejudices.”

“You do recall, Narcy, that we once shared these ‘prejudices’” Lucius responded hotly. 

“You do recall, Lucius, that we are on probation and one wrong move will have us rotting in whatever replacement for Azkaban they’ve come up with!” She hissed back viciously, her sharpened nails digging into the skin of his forearm, nearly drawing blood along the Dark Mark. Lucius stuck his chin out petulantly, but said nothing else. Narcissa released her grasp a few seconds later. 

They were standing in the shadow of a pillar farthest from the main platform. They could see Draco and Astoria clearly, and little Scorpius nervously shifting from one foot to the other. Draco placed a firm hand on his shoulders and Scorpius tensed up immediately, his feet planted firmly on the ground. The whistle blew, signalling that The Hogwarts Express was about to leave. As the students hurriedly boarded, waving teary goodbyes to their families, Lucius stepped out of the shadows of his own accord. 

He had to say goodbye properly. Last night had been too formal, too hasty. I’m not used to feeling so strongly for someone. I had felt, when I first fell for Narcissa, a few years into their marriage. And with Draco, bubbly baby Draco. And then? Then I got caught up with storm that was The Dark Lord. The contempt for the figure that consumed his life was not new to Lucius. For years, ever since scorpius was born and he could see what he had truly missed out on, these thoughts had been worming their way into his mind. Scorpius was an angel who showered Lucius with only the pure emotion that children could muster. And last night he had simply patted the crying boy. Lucius hadn’t know what else to do. So he responded the way his Father had, telling Scorpius that, “Malfoy men never cry. Pull yourself together, boy!”

I have to make it right.

Narcissa tried to pull him back, but he shrugged her off and marched through the crowd towards Scorpius. The boy was already at the entrance to the train, and before Lucius could reach him, someone grabbed him by the collar, yanking him around.

“Scum like you are not permitted here.” Growled the woman. She was Lucius’ height, elegant but wild, and her dark hair seemed to absorb the light itself. 

“I-” Lucius started, frantically trying to get around her to Scorpius. She misunderstood his agitation for something else, and tensed the fist clasped around his dress shirt.

“Vermin.” She spat, pulling Lucius closer to deliver her threat more meaningfully. “We should have just killed the lot of you.” 

The crowd around them was now parting, sensing the tension that was going on. The whispers began, and words like Death Eaters and Murderers and Scum of the Earth, were thrown around.

Lucius only caught sight of frightened grey eyes before Scorpius was pushed along with the crowd of students onto the train. Seeing him gone, Lucius stopped struggling and slumped onto his assailant in defeat. She, startled by this turn of events, pushed him off with great force. He stumbled, and bumped into someone else, who shot him a dirty look and muttered, “Filthy bigot!” Lucius was being pushed around by the crowd now, more roughly than those who were not clearly an ex-Death Eater. Finally, a hand clasped his arm, dragging him right next to the train. He looked through the window of the compartment right in front of him, and right into those familiar grey eyes. 

“Scorpius…” He started, tears welling up in his eyes. Lucius suddenly felt old– very old.

“Grandfather, why were they saying those things to you?” Scorpius’ lower lip trembled.

“Shhhhh, my sweet. It was a simple misunderstanding. I’ll miss you. Very much. I’ll expect a letter every week, yes?” Lucius quickly spoke, his voice cracking on his last words. 

“Every day!” Scorpius exclaimed, leaning out of the open window to hug his Grandpa tightly around the neck. Lucius patted him self-consciously, but then leaned into the hug. 

 

The whistle blew again, and scorpius sadly pulled back, sitting down in his seat again. Just as the train began pulling away, Lucius called out, “Know that I love you, Scorpius. Remember that you are my entire world!” 

“Come on. Let’s get you away from this crowd.” The man said, resting a hand on Lucius’ forearm, and leading him back to where Narcissa, Draco and Astoria stood in the distance.

Lucius turned to look at him properly, and was shocked to see none other than Harry Potter. He was so surprised that he couldn’t manage to say a single thing. Once they were out of the crowd, Harry nodded once and stepped away, motioning for Lucius to join his family.

In billowing steam from the train, nobody saw Lucius Malfoy shed a tear.


End file.
